What Madness is This!
by RiginEldritchLorae
Summary: Tyrian of Remant meets the Joker of Gotham. 'Nuff said.
1. Chapter 1: A Trip to Remnant

"What madness is this?!" the scorpion faunus yelled in disbelief once he'd seen the pale man with green hair.

"Joker," the man introduced himself, "the Clown Prince of Crime, at your service." The man bowed, looked up, and smiled at the confused faunus. "Of course, I'll never obey any command you give me."

"What about a command made by my goddess?" The faunus asked.

"Who, Salem? Nah, she's good as dead once she meets me."

"What? How did you know-"

"I read the script. By the way, Scorpio, why do you do what you do? I'm just curious."

"I live only for my lady! Without her, I am but nothing. A worm!"

"Right. And what's your name?"

"Tyrian Callows. I am in the service of Lady Salem."

"And what will she do when she gets here?"

"She will rule this world as she rules Remnant!"

"Could you bring me to this… Remnant? I want to have a conversation with her."

"To bargain for your life?"

"Eh, sure."

Alright! I'll bring you to her! But I warn you: if you ever make an attempt on my mistress' life, I _will_ kill you until your body is no different than a Grimm's."

"Eh, fair enough."

* * *

"My lady," the clown said, bowing to Salem, "I wish to make a bargain."

"What is your name?" Salem asked him.

"I don't know anymore," the odd man replied. He reminded her of Tyrian in a way. "Nowadays, though, I call myself Joker."

"Joker?" Salem smiled. "Do you provide entertainment?"

"Well," the man responded, "I crack jokes all the time, and I _would_ perform a magic trick, but the only two I seem to know end up getting one or all of my audience killed."

"I doubt that would happen to me."

"Alright, but there's still the matter of why I'm here."

"I assumed you were here to beg for your life when I enter your plane."

"Oh, no," the perpetually-smiling Joker replied. "I'm here to offer you a large portion of Gotham City. We'll work out all the details as we talk it out." He held out his hand in a business-like manner. "Agreed?"

Salem took his hand. "Agreed." His smile seemed to widen from his cheeks to his ears. Then she realized she had the sudden urge to laugh. She held it in as long as she could before bursting into a guffaw.

"Mistress!" Tyrian cried, mortified by what he was witnessing. "What is happening to you?!" As her laughter died down, her lips turned a deep red and the corners of her mouth became sharp. When she finally stopped laughing, she fell over, the smile still transfixed upon her face. Salem was finally dead. "Mistress Salem!" He turned to Joker with burning rage in his eyes. "You-You will pay for that insolence!"

As he attacked Joker, it seemed that Joker was simply waltzing around while dodging Tyrian's attacks. Finally, Joker drew a foreign pistol, pointed it at Tyrian's head, and taunted him with a simple truth: "Well, now, it seems you've lost your purpose in life."

Tyrian stopped and lingered, contemplating the meaning of Joker's words. He finally collapsed his arm blades and collapsed to his knees. "You are right." His eyes welled up with tears. "I-I will follow you now, Master Joker."

Joker stood there, confused. He wondered what he should do with the poor looney.


	2. Chapter 2: A Trip to the Tailor

"What do you say to coming with me and painting Gotham City red?"

"What is the point?" the poor faunus bawled. "My mistress is dead! I have nothing more to live for!"

"Well, you do realize that this is a story with multiple chapters, right?" Tyrian looked up, confused. "I mean, I have appearances to keep up! If I don't rope you into going on a few sprees with me, I'll lose my fans!"

Tyrian had stopped crying purely because of the odd words that were spewing from the clown's red lips. "I do not understand." He stood up and wiped his tears away. "You speak as if we are simply characters in a story. As if we have not lives of our own, but that our fates are predetermined."

"Oh, my dear Scorponok (no, wait, that name's taken)," Joker, who had just placed his arm around him, was starting to intrigue Tyrian more and more, "er, Scorpion (yes, that'll do). My dear Scorpion, our fates together in this story are yet to be defined. You see, we are simply redefined versions of our original selves, whichever one was chosen for me, and as such we are merely pawns in the game that is known as fanfiction!"

"Fanfiction?"

"Yes." Joker's smile loosened for the next sentence. "Fanfiction is where someone writes a story about a favorite character or completely rewrites a story in a way that amuses them. It's very annoying sometimes, like giving me a small blonde-haired brat with a demon inside him for me to take care of!

Why on Earths One through One-Nine-Nine-Nine-Nine-Nine would I be able to take care of such a child? I mean, I'd be more likely to just pick him up and spray acid from my trick boutonniere!"

"What happened in that story?"

"Me in disgrace; or, rather, a version of me that I'm not proud of."

"Oh, okay."

After a bit of silence, Joker finally spoke again. "Well, you didn't answer my question. What do you say to painting Gotham City red with me?"

"If it is what you believe is correct for the story, then I will do it."

"Great! Now we just need to get you a costume! We supervillains don't go around killing people in our everyday clothes!" Tyrian looked at him in confusion. "Okay, well, except for me."

There was a small ring when the door opened and the Joker walked in with a brown-haired man who had a scorpion tail, probably another geneticist.

"Tailor, buddy," Joker said as he approached the counter, "I need a costume for our friend here (funny; I didn't even know this shop was here until a paragraph ago)."

The Tailor didn't even look up as he grabbed a pencil and notepad, and a roll of measuring tape. He started taking measurements of the newcomer. "Another geneticist?" No response. "Scorpion guy, are you a geneticist?"

That seemed to get his attention. "Oh, uh, no. I am from another world."

That didn't seem to surprise the Tailor. "Okay. What number?"

"Er, it is called Remnant."

"Alright. What's your name? I need it for the receipt."

"My name is Tyrian Callows."

The Tailor stopped taking measurements. "Have you fought a mister Qrow Branwen recently?"

"Who?" both Tyrian and the Joker asked.

"Nevermind. Come back in three to seven days for your costume. Any later than that and I'll scrap it for other costumes; any earlier and I won't have finished it."

"Thank you, Tailor."

"I'm just looking to keep a job. Oh, and I'd like to borrow your ce

A large, humanoid crocodile walked in the store. "Hey, Tailor, I need a new set of pants!"


End file.
